


Ink and Ribbons

by Cur_Non



Category: 18th & 19th Century CE RPF, 18th Century CE RPF, American Revolution RPF, Historical RPF
Genre: Creative use of hair ribbons and an officer's sash., John Laurens is a tiger when he wants to be, Light Bondage, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-02
Updated: 2016-02-02
Packaged: 2018-05-17 19:57:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5883598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cur_Non/pseuds/Cur_Non
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Laurens reminds Hamilton that once in a while he needs to take a break.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ink and Ribbons

Hamilton put the pen down. His hand ached. In the mirror across the room he could see his reflection: gaunt, tired, the contours of his cheeks made hollow by fading candlelight, and a rather humorous smudge of ink had traveled the length of his (rather generous) nose. He rubbed at the smear rather helplessly, dimly aware that he was likely making it worse. He’d lost track of the hour. And having lent his watch to the General the night before, he had no idea what time it was. He peered out of the window. The night was still a deep black spotted with stars. Good, Hamilton thought. Not yet past two. The sun rose early in the summer time, and was a hazy violet by four in the morning.

Hamilton yawned.

 

“Finished?”

“Finished.”

“I was starting to worry. Felt like I counted every star in the sky.”

“It was too distracting to have you in here. Felt like you’d have something to say about everything I wrote.”

“You’re confusing me with you.”

Hamilton laughed. “That’s true.”

“So what now? You tired?”

“Nah. Let’s go for a walk. It’s a warm night.”

Before Laurens could protest that he had already spent hours sitting outside, Hamilton was out the door.

“Where are you going, anyway?”

“The moon is bright enough—we won’t go far.”

About fifty paces from his cabin , Hamilton threw himself down on the grass.

“It’s so hot inside,” he sighed, looking up at the sky.

“What, are you going to sleep out here in the grass?”

“That depends, are you going to sleep with me?”

Laurens sat down next to him. “Not out here I’m not. What if it rains? And you’d be woken up at four from the glare coming off the river.”

“Fine,” Hamilton rolled onto his stomach. “We’ll go back in a few minutes. I just needed a break. It’s so stuffy back there, I could hardly breathe.”

“You could hardly breathe because you stop breathing when you write. You focus too deeply.”

“‘Can’t help it,” Hamilton murmured into the ground. “Too much to say and I don’t write fast enough. Breathing only slows me down.”

“Poor Alex,” Laurens said. “Too smart for his own good.”

“Yes, someday people will look at me and say, ‘poor Alex, that handsome devil. Too much beauty and brains in one man.’ —and pity me, rightfully.”

“A bit of an egoist, are we?”

“John, if you knew what went on in my head—the amazing ideas I’ve had for this country—you’d pity me, for having so few hours in the day.”

“I pity you for not getting what you deserve.”

“I pity me for that too.”

Laurens touched his shoulder and Hamilton rolled back onto his back.

“You’ve still got ink on your nose.”

“Everything about me is lamentable, John.”

“Don’t be so melodramatic. Not everything about you is lamentable.”

“You’re just trying to flatter me.”

“Alex.”

“All right, so one thing about me isn’t lamentable. But the rest—“

“Don’t say it,” Laurens cut him off. “Believe me, someday you’ll lead this country.”

“Not if Washington never gives me a command.”

“He needs you.”

“He needs a diary.”

“That’s you.”

Hamilton hit him.

“You know what I mean, though. He needs you. No one can do what you do.”

“But it gets me nowhere. I’m useful to him, sure, but where is that going to leave me after the war? No field experience isn’t going to look good. Doesn’t make me much better than a clerk.”

Laurens lay down beside him in the grass and folded his hands behind his head. “You’ll make it,” he said softly, looking up at the moon. “You shouldn’t doubt yourself.”

“Oh, I know I’ll make it,” Hamilton said quickly. “I didn’t come here to not get anywhere. I just wish I could get a little more credit for what I do.”

“I know,” said Laurens. “I wish I could do more—I’ve spoken to him several times—"

“John, it’s fine. I’m just whining. I haven’t slept in days.”

“You need to sleep.”

“Can’t. I just lie awake.”

“You think too much.”

“I know I do.”

“So stop,” Laurens said, and leaned over to kiss him.

Hamilton, though initially surprised by Laurens’ sudden affection, responded with enthusiasm. He slid his arms around Laurens and pulled him down on top of him, and returned the kiss with a hunger.

They kissed under the moonlight, bodies pressed together, and Laurens let out a growl of annoyance when Hamilton broke their kiss.

“Let’s go,” Hamilton said quickly, and he scrambled to his feet. Laurens followed.

 

Once inside the cabin, Laurens pushed Hamilton up against the wall, pinning him against it with his body.

Hamilton laughed huskily. “Normally I have to beg you to do that.”

“You made me wait,” Laurens growled, moving to bite Hamilton’s neck and shoulder. “For hours.”

“Sorry,” Hamilton said. “I lost track of time.”

Laurens was unbuttoning his shirt now. “Take off your jacket.”

Hamilton had barely gotten it off when Laurens pushed him back against the wall, kissing him hungrily. Hamilton moaned low into his mouth.

“I should punish you,” Laurens said with a grin, “for making me wait so long.”

“Oh, let me apologize,” Hamilton said, sinking to his knees. “Let me.”

Laurens laughed. “No. Get up. Over there.”

Hamilton obeyed, begrudgingly.

Laurens pushed him down onto the mattress. He took his hands and pulled them up over his head. It helped that he was nearly a head taller than Hamilton.

With his officer’s sash he quickly knotted his wrists together.

“Hey—hey!” Hamilton yelped, realizing too late that he’d been trapped. He struggled a little to free himself, but Laurens pressed his body to him and he stilled.

“Shh,” Laurens told him, obviously pleased. “You know you can’t be too loud.”

Hamilton growled low in his throat.

“I’m just saying,” Laurens said, sitting back to take off his jacket and unbutton his shirt. “If you don’t want to risk being interrupted, you should do what you’re told.”

When Hamilton opened his mouth to make an obvious retort, he added, “I could gag you too if it’s too much trouble.”

Hamilton swallowed hard. “I’ll be good,” he promised.

“Good.” Laurens knelt on the ground in front of him. He ran his hands up Hamilton’s thighs, felt Hamilton sigh and spread them for him.

“You want me to touch you?”

“Anything.”

“Anything?” he ran a hand over the inseam of Hamilton’s breeches.

Hamilton stiffened, propped himself up on his elbows, his hands still bound in front of him.

Laurens let his hips tilt into his hand, and with the other undid one of the buttons. “More?”

“More.”

Another button, and then a third.

“More.”

“Greedy,” Laurens said, but he undid the rest, and Hamilton tipped his head back and let out a little hiss of frustration.

Laurens kissed his chest, his collar, his jaw, and pulled away from him.

“J,” Hamilton whimpered. “Come on. That’s not fair—"

Laurens looked at him plainly. “I’m just helping you undress.” He pulled off Hamilton’s boots.

“You’re being cruel.”

“Cruel?” He tugged at the waistband of Hamilton’s pants and Hamilton arched off the bed so he could pull them off. “What’s cruel?”

“You’re teasing me.”

“Oh, hardly.” He paused to look over Hamilton’s body, his lean muscles always looking tight, as though he would spring into action at any moment, the thin line of red hair along his stomach that deepened to dark auburn over his groin, and his cock, hard and standing at attention. “In fact, I think I’m being rather generous.”

“You tied me up,” Hamilton whined.

Laurens, still kneeling on the floor, ran his tongue up across the inside of Hamilton’s thigh.

“Generous,” he repeated.

Hamilton, for once in his life rendered speechless, just stared at him.

“Sit up,” Laurens said to him, and when he did, Laurens kissed him, hard, pushing his tongue into his mouth.

Hamilton responded eagerly, but only for a moment, because Laurens tugged on his ponytail and he broke the kiss with a gasp of surprise.

“Thank you,” Laurens said with a dark smile as he untied the ribbon that had been holding Hamilton’s hair back from his face.

“What are you going to do with—" Hamilton started, but Laurens wrapped his hand around his cock and Hamilton forgot whatever it was he was asking.

Laurens bit at his neck and ear, his hand moving steadily. “Generous,” he said against Hamilton’s throat.

“Generous,” Hamilton repeated breathlessly.

“Lie down,” Laurens said, and Hamilton complied, his eyes fluttering shut and lips parted.

Laurens moved back down between his legs, still working Hamilton’s cock with his hand. He was getting wet, slick, and Laurens ran his tongue over the head and took him in his mouth.

Hamilton yelped, a bit too loudly, and Laurens raised his eyebrows at him.

“I thought you were going to be quiet?” He asked, and flicked his tongue over the tip.

“S-sorry,” Hamilton said through gritted teeth. “It’s hard.”

“You don’t say.”

“Shut up.”

Laurens shrugged and again took him into his mouth, slowly, and Hamilton tried to stay still and failed to stay silent, instead muttering little rhapsodies of praise to whoever had invented such an exercise.

He waited until he could hear Hamilton’s voice start to tremble, and then he slipped the ribbon around the base of his cock and tied it off, just tight enough to hold him at his mercy.

Hamilton gasped and sat up, his hair—normally so neatly powdered and tied back—falling into his face.

“Too tight?” Laurens asked, a note of concern in his voice.

“No,” he said, sounding a bit strangled. Laurens noted with some amusement that his face was flushed a deep red. “Just surprised.”

“Good,” Laurens said, ducking his head back down.

“Get the oil,” Hamilton said hoarsely.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“What for?”

“Jesus, J, what do you think?”

“I think you’re getting pretty desperate.”

Hamilton, stubborn as he was, did not reply.

Laurens chuckled to himself and got the bottle. He knelt again on the floor, poured a little in his hand and put it to the side.

“Talk.”

“What am I talking about?”

“Talk about me.” Laurens licked up the underside of his shaft and took his cock in his mouth.

“Goddamn your mouth is so hot and your hair is so pretty.”

“Hah.”

Hamilton’s hips twitched. “Stop laughing on my cock.”

“I thought you were hired because you were eloquent.”

“Shut the fuck up, J.”

Laurens, forever Hamilton’s Obedient Servant, said nothing and instead slipped a well-oiled finger into his ass.

Hamilton jerked and, forgetting his hands were tied, almost hit himself.

Laurens paused. “Is that not what you meant?”

“If you take your hand away I am going to kick you.”

“Oh, it’s like that?” Laurens asked, his lips brushing over the head of Hamilton’s cock and his hand finding a steady rhythm to thrust in.  
Hamilton, his arms held above his head to avoid self-injury, let out a little moan.

“Talk,” Laurens said again.

“I don’t know what the fuck you want me to talk about,” Hamilton said in a low voice, his words starting to meld together at the edges. “It’s hard for me to think when you’re sucking my cock, you should know that by now—it’s not—it’s not like I can really focus—on anything else.”

“You’re doing pretty well,” Laurens said, adding a second finger.

“Easy for you to say. You don’t have to talk. I mean you couldn’t without stopping—don’t, please—but still—I don’t make you talk—"

“Yes you do.”

“—But not when it’s important!”

“You’re not making any sense,” Laurens teased. “And me doing this isn’t going to make you come.”

“What.”

“You’re tied up.”

“I can feel you grinning.”

“I’m pleased. Aren’t you?” He slid in a third finger.

Hamilton groaned. “Please, this isn’t fair. Free me or hurry up.”

“Not fast enough for you?”

“I want you to fuck me.”

“I was waiting for that,” Laurens said, and he untied Hamilton’s wrists. Hamilton rubbed them as Laurens reached again for the oil.

“Aren’t you going to take those off?” Hamilton asked, eyeing Laurens’ breeches and boots.

“Would take too long,” Laurens said, unbuttoning his pants. His cock slid out, hard and thick, and Hamilton watched as he rubbed oil along the length, his eyes dark with hunger. The thought that Laurens was too impatient to finish undressing—

Laurens let his cock rub between Hamilton’s legs.

Hamilton was glad they’d lifted the height of the bed. That way, Laurens could still stand, could still fuck him while wearing his uniform—a surprise he hadn’t expected from his normally conservative lover.

“Is this what you want?” Laurens asked, his voice taking on a roughness Hamilton hadn’t heard before. Hamilton nodded.

“Say it.”

“I want you to fuck me.”

Laurens pushed into him and Hamilton let out a low moan.

“Remember to be quiet,” Laurens murmured into his ear.

“I can’t—"

“You can. Try.” Laurens was kissing and biting at him urgently now, feeling at last the pleasure he had been waiting for the entire evening.

“Please, John—" Hamilton’s voice was rising as Laurens moved and hunger and need colored his words. “Let me—"

“Yes, yes.”

Laurens hastily pulled Hamilton’s hair ribbon free of him and was gratified with the latter’s groan of satisfaction. He fucked him harder, feeling Hamilton writhing beneath him with his head tipped back, the heat and sweat of their bodies as they moved together.

Hamilton slid a hand over Laurens’ back and under his pants, pushing his hips further to him. Laurens growled and increased his pace, and Hamilton whimpered.

“I-I’m going to come,” Hamilton managed to get out, his hands clawing at Laurens’ shoulders.

“I can’t wait any longer,” Laurens breathed, and he felt the hot rush against his chest and Hamilton let out a strangled cry as he muffled the sound with his hand.

If he had not already been so close that would have easily pushed him over the edge, and he thrust again, hard, and felt the release of his own orgasm finally wash over him.

They lay there panting for a while, bodies entwined.

“There’s still ink on your nose,” Laurens said finally, his face against Hamilton’s chest.

“Shit, I left the candles burning,” Hamilton muttered.

“I’ll get them,” Laurens said. He kissed his cheek.

“I don’t want you to go.”

“I’m not leaving.”

He rose and buttoned himself, dressing hastily.

“I’m surprised you kept them on,” Hamilton said, gesturing at his breeches. “You’re normally so careful about your uniform.”

Laurens glanced over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow at him. “I couldn’t wait,” he said with a shrug.

Hamilton watched him extinguish the candles, watched him pause a moment at the window to look at the violet sky.

“We have to be up soon,” Hamilton said. He picked up his clothes from the floor.

“I know,” Laurens said. “Sorry, I should have let you sleep.”

Hamilton dressed in the dark and fell back down on the bed.

“Come sleep with me,” he said softly.

“My dear boy,” Laurens said, lying back down next to him. They kissed slow and unhurried, and Laurens added in a whisper against his lips, “I will always.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is the real reason why John Laurens sent for a new summer uniform.


End file.
